


But I Play Him On TV

by ereshai



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: Community: intoabar, Gen, Mistaken Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6587701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ereshai/pseuds/ereshai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maria Hill walks into a bar and meets… Jake Jensen!</p>
            </blockquote>





	But I Play Him On TV

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place after Captain America: The Winter Soldier but before Avengers: Age of Ultron.  
> Many thanks to reeby10 for the beta!

The bar is a dive the likes of which Maria has not seen since… ever. She’s been lucky enough to avoid establishments like this until now. The things she does for the Avengers. If a certain patriotic super soldier would stop making himself so hard to find, she wouldn’t have to be in this backwater town in California now. Stark owes her; this is above and beyond.

She is conspicuously overdressed and heads turn to watch her progress to the bar. Good; there’s no way Cap can miss her. If he’s even here - there had been some doubt about this particular Captain America sighting. Unfortunately, it’s also the only credible lead they’ve gotten since Cap had taken off with Wilson on a quest to find the Winter Soldier. Would it kill the man to keep in touch with his team? Maria suspects the lack of regimented living has gone to Cap’s head. No Army, no SHIELD, no chain of command to keep Captain America and his more reckless impulses under control. If he could ever be considered under control. Superheroes are almost more trouble than they’re worth.

“Whatever’s on tap,” she tells the bartender when he asks and hands him enough money to cover the cost, plus a little extra. The beer is bound to be disappointing, but at least she won’t regret leaving it behind, as she inevitably will. Trouble follows Cap around like a naughty puppy.

The beer is as she expected. Fortunately, it only takes five minutes for Cap to hop onto the barstool next to hers. At least he’s prompt.

“Hey, pretty lady,” he drawls, and Maria had not been expecting that. She also hadn’t been expecting the frat boy facial hair, tinted glasses, or the violently pink t-shirt with ‘Go Petunias’ splashed across the front.

“Really?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at him. What kind of situation would compel him to dress and act like this? Undercover isn’t really his strong suit. Random do-gooding, maybe, since the Winter Soldier had last been sighted outside of Paris, France.

Cap grins and spreads his hands in an ‘I had to try’ gesture. He’s acting so unlike himself that Maria reflexively sweeps the room. She spots someone watching them from of the booths - a Latino man in a cowboy hat - and another one pretending interest in a game at the pool table - a bald African-American man. They don’t particularly stand out, but Maria’s pretty good at spotting a tail.

“You’re a hard man to track down, Captain,” she says neutrally and waits for him to read her in.

The sudden tension of his body is palpable. He stares at her, then bolts toward the door, knocking into a couple of the bar’s patrons on the way. Maria turns to stare after him. The two observers follow immediately, walking quickly. The man in the cowboy hat throws a curious look at her as he passes by. Not here for her, then.

Maria slips off her barstool and hurries after them. Cap can handle them, but they might have backup; whatever the situation, she’s not going to leave him to deal with it on his own.

There’s no sign of Cap or the two men following him by the time she exits the bar. On one side there’s a small parking lot sandwiched between the bar and its neighbor - it ends at a brick wall and is empty except for the cars. On the other is a grassy piece of land that separates the bar from an abandoned hardware store. It opens onto a dirt alley that runs between the row of businesses on the main street and the backyards that mark the beginning of the town’s residential area.

Instinct sends Maria toward the alley. That same instinct has her ducking under the fist aimed at her head as she rounds the corner of the bar. She tucks into a forward roll and comes up on her feet, spinning to face her attacker as she draws her sidearm from her shoulder holster and aims it at him.

“Hands where I can see them!”

It’s Cap. His eyes widen when he sees the pistol and he puts his hands up.

“What’s going on, Cap?” Maria keeps her pistol on him as she scans the area. Cowboy Hat is standing a few yards away, his hands in the air like he’s harmless, like she hadn’t spotted the holstered piece at the small of his back. There’s no sign of Bald Man and she feels every potential hiding place behind her like an itch between her shoulder blades. Next time she’s bringing backup.

“Oh god, don’t shoot me. Who the hell are you? Why are you after me? How did you find us?” The patter of words falls from Cap’s mouth and it’s like someone else is speaking with his voice - his tone, his speech pattern, his choice of words, none of them belong to the Steve Rogers she knows. The presence of the observers takes on a different significance.

“What have you done to Captain Rogers? Brainwashing? Memory wipe?” she demands of Cowboy Hat. He just shakes his head, a puzzled frown wrinkling his brows.

“Captain Rogers? Wait, _Steve_ Rogers? Captain America? I mean, my sister told me she saw a resemblance, but man. Cougs, I look _just like_ Captain America.” A grin stretches his face and he drops his hands. “Sorry, not actually Captain America. But I could totally play him on tv.”

Maria lowers her pistol slowly. “If you aren’t him, who are you?”

“Oh. I’m…uh, that’s a little complicated. Do you have some free time? And maybe you could promise to let us go after? Uh, please, scary government lady?”

Maria doesn’t bother to correct his assumption. People tend to answer questions more quickly when they’re being asked by a government official. “Give me a name. Preferably your real one.” She pulls out her phone and unlocks it, though she keeps her pistol drawn. Just in case.

Not-Cap communicates with Cowboy Hat through a series of facial expressions and sweeping arm movements. Cowboy Hat sticks to nods, headshakes, and shrugs. Finally, Not-Cap turns back to her, his grin now decidedly nervous.

“Jacob Jensen. J-E-N-S-E-N. Captain. U. S. Special Forces.” He paused. “Technically deceased.”

Maria doesn’t roll her eyes, but it's close thing. “That’s going around. Did you get that, JARVIS?” she says into her phone.

“ _Indeed, ma’am_.” Her phone emits a holographic display full of information, including Jensen’s military record, complete with a photograph of him as a young clean-cut soldier in dress uniform. His facial resemblance to Cap is even more marked, though he doesn’t quite have Cap’s Jaw of Righteousness.

“Is that a Stark phone? Awesome! I thought that model was still in development. I mean, holographic phone display, what? Because how would I know anything about that?” Jensen says, but Maria ignores him.

“ _Information on his movements after his death will take a little longer_ ,” JARVIS continues.

“Thank you, JARVIS. Start a file. I’ll see what I can get directly from the source.”

“ _Very good, ma’am_.”

“A file? Uh, no thank you. And how did you access any of that? I buried- it’s classified. Very classified.” Jensen starts to approach her and she lifts her pistol a little, not aiming at him, just reminding him that she has it.

“That’s close enough,” she tells him. “You can untwist your panties, I’m not here to arrest you. Tell me about Bolivia,” she says, focusing on the final mission in his record. A long list of successful covert ops that had ended with a clusterfuck of civilian casualties and the whole team conveniently dead? It smells like a cover-up. And all the proactive do-gooders that surround her every day have rubbed off on her, because she’s going to stick her nose in and try to make it right. Maybe Cap is onto something; picking her own causes instead of waiting for official sanction is oddly freeing.

“Okay, see…” As Jensen sputters around a non-explanation, a van approaches, driven by Bald Man. He pulls up to a stop and hops out, joining Cowboy Hat. They have a short conversation while Jensen chatters until he finally runs out of words.

“Thank you, you’ve told me exactly nothing. One of you,” she says, nodding at the other two men, “tell me about Bolivia. I need to know exactly how much of a mess there is to clean up.”

“Clean up?” Bald Man says. “I don’t need to be cleaned up. The Pooch has a family to get home to.”

“That’s two. Do you have anything to add, Cowboy, or should we make it three for three in unhelpfulness?”

“There was a man. Max. No last name.” Maria waits, but that’s all Cowboy Hat has to say.

“That’s something, at least,” she says with a sigh. “I don’t suppose this Max was CIA? That would make this a lot easier.”

“Yeah, he is. Technically. But he’s secretly gone rogue. Or maybe that’s changed?” Jensen probably would have continued, but Maria cuts him off.

“This him?” She pulls up a photograph on her display. Max, a particularly slippery low-level scumbag who provided weapons to terrorists, had been on SHIELD’s radar for years. Maria had assembled the initial SHIELD team to investigate him. STRIKE Team Gamma had finally caught up with him almost two years ago.

“That’s him,” Jensen confirms. The other two nod in agreement.

“You’re in luck. He’s no longer a problem. So now it’s just a question of clearing your names and bringing you back from the dead. Unless there’s anything else I need to know? Any active warrants on your aliases?”

The three men look at each other. Predictably, Jensen is the first to speak. “No longer a problem? We’ve been trying to track him down for years. What the hell, lady? Who are you? What kind of spook agency do you work for that can make a guy like that just go away?”

“The Pooch does not care. As long as the nice lady can get me home, she can be a hitwoman for the local farmer’s co-op, and I will drive her to her next target with a smile on my face and help her with the body after. No active warrants, ma’am.”

Jensen throws up his hands. “But we couldn’t find him. _I_ couldn’t find him, and I’ve been looking. Everywhere. There’s nothing. Doesn’t it worry you, that they scrubbed every trace of him? Assuming she’s even telling the truth. Cougar, you okay with this?”

Cougar shrugs. “Home, Jake. Our families.”

“Do you really think we get a happy ending?” Jensen paces in short, sharp strides as he runs his hand through his hair. “What’s this going to cost us?”

“Believe it or not, there are people in this world who do the right thing, and I happen to be one of them.” Maria holsters her gun and closes the holographic display. “There are resources in place for Max’s victims.” She does not mention that those resources are mainly used to support the grieving families that had been left in his wake. “JARVIS, I’ll be adding a few names to that file. Cross-reference it with the Mad Max file. It’s in the archive.”

Jensen flails again. “You seriously refer to that dickbag as Mad Max? Way to ruin an awesome franchise. Thanks for that.”

Ignoring Jensen seems to be her best option. “Just you three, or the rest of your team, too?” she asks Pooch and Cougar.

Pooch shakes his head. “Not Roque. He- You can clear his record for that last mission. But that’s it.”

“ _Acknowledged_. _I will compile all relevant documents and forward them to the case manager in charge of restitution at the CIA._ ”

“Restitution? From the CIA? That’s even less believable than you just waltzing into our lives and handing us everything we’ve been working for since Bolivia.”

“Thank you, JARVIS, that’s all for now.” She secures her phone and puts it away. “A lot of agencies are trying to regain the public’s trust after what happened in DC. Restitution for past misdeeds is the most visible way to do that.”

“DC? Shit, SHIELD? You’re with SHIELD, aren’t you? You want to talk about a mess requiring restitution…” Jensen starts muttering under his breath and Maria quickly interrupts him.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss SHIELD or the events in DC. And I work for Stark Industries. Here’s my card.” Maria pulls a business card from her breast pocket and holds it out. “Call and leave your name and contact information with my PA and we’ll keep you updated on your case.”

“So that’s it? You’re just going to leave now?” Jensen takes the card and tucks it into his back pocket without looking at it.

A black town car pulls up behind her. The driver steps out, opens the back door, and waits. “That’s my ride. I don’t have the time or the inclination to hold your hand through this. I’m sure my PA can recommend someone; Stark Industries provides counselling services for its employees across the country. Gentlemen,” she says with a nod. Only Cougar nods back; Pooch is already in the van and Jensen is too busy muttering about shrinks.

She slides into the back seat. “To the airport, please, this lead didn’t pan out,” she tells the driver as they back out of the alley. By the time she’s in the air, she’ll probably have another lead to follow. Another wild goose to chase. After she finds Cap, she’s going to make it a point to introduce him to his doppelganger - he deserves it for all of the hoops he’s making her jump through just to find him.


End file.
